


running up that road, running up that hill

by abandonedquiche (chlorinetrifluoride)



Series: Under(grad)tale [8]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-08-09
Packaged: 2018-12-13 06:04:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11753592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chlorinetrifluoride/pseuds/abandonedquiche
Summary: Your name is Chara, you are a junior at Mount Ebott University, and one of your friends, also one of the kids you're mentoring, decides to introduce you to their family. Watching all of their siblings interact, their dialogue devoid of any real malice, you sort of understand why Frisk is the nicest person you know.





	running up that road, running up that hill

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PlumTea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlumTea/gifts).



May 201X

When you get to Frisk’s little house in a shitty neighborhood a several miles away from MEU’s campus, you see their mouth crinkle up with dimples as they unlock the door, all… five or six of the locks.

The both of you walk in.

“I’m home!” they yell, still grinning.

A few of their siblings are in the living room, playing Uno. They don’t really look up when they see Frisk, but they definitely look up when they see you, their game stuttering to a halt. They stare at you for a while, and their stare makes you uncomfortable, but you try not to show it. They’re kids. They’re curious.

A tall boy in a bandanna is the first to introduce himself to you. He has to be in his mid teens, maybe fifteen.

“You must be Chara,” he says, shaking your hand. You snatch it back like he’s burned you. You hate it when people touch you without permission.

“Art, you have to warn people before you invade their personal space,” Frisk half says, and half signs. He seems to understand.

“Sorry about that, Chara. I’m Arturo. Francesc--...Frisk, they’ve told us a lot about you. How nice you are.”

You’re certain he’s being sarcastic, because you’re the least nice person you know, but he doesn’t seem to be.

“This is my family,” Frisk says to you. “Minus Mami. She’s working. And I don’t know where Papi is.”

“I don’t know why you’re complaining about that,” a girl whose dark afro-textured hair - even longer than Frisk’s - has been tied back by a faded reddish ribbon the same color as your own hair. She’s older than Arturo, certainly, but probably younger than Frisk. She gets up to introduce herself to you, but does not touch you. “I’m Sofia.”

She’s holding a plastic toy knife. You snort. She follows your line of sight.

“It’s a stress thing,” she explains. “When I get nervous, I throw it into the air and catch it.”

She points to one of the kids who isn’t playing Uno, who pages through a dilapidated notebook, and wears a huge pair of glasses. “That’s Antonella. We call them Toni. They’re studying, though. They're really smart.”

Toni gazes at you and smiles with Frisk’s dimples.

The next up is the girl you’ve seen in pictures from her dance recitals. The one who knows ballet. Her name is Olivia. She puts down a card, and Arturo curses. Sofia’s quick to reprimand him.

If their appearances are anything go by, Olivia and Toni are twins.

“Javier’s making dinner in the kitchen. He’ll want to meet you,” Arturo says. “And the other one, in the cowboy hat, here, that’s Roberto. Most people call him Bob.”

Bob’s the youngest. He can’t be any older than nine.

You laugh, inwardly. You want to bring Bob over here, with Frisk’s consent, so she can meet the other Bob.

“I have a friend named Bob,” you comment.

“Is he as cool as me?” he asks.

“Oh, definitely,” you reply. “You’d like _her_.”

Bob is momentarily surprised that there are girls named Bob. Frisk tells him that there are girls named whatever they want to name themselves.

“C’mon,” Frisk says, tugging you toward the kitchen. “Gotta make sure Javier’s not burning down the kitchen. He’s really good at cooking, but he tends to lose himself, and I don’t like it when Sofi or someone older’s not watching him.”

True to form, Javier is preparing a feast. However, much to Frisk’s relief, he has not set anything on fire.

You really hope he’s not cooking all of this because Frisk invited you over. You wouldn’t want him to go through so much trouble. Also, you’re vaguely aware of Frisk’s family’s financial situation. They only went to MEU because they got a full scholarship. You did, too, but not because your foster family was lacking in funds.

It was because you never wanted to be in their debt. Not after 12th grade. You wanted a clean break.

Arturo follows you two into the kitchen, chattering at Frisk all the while, without saying much of anything of much importance until he sits down at the table.

“Sofia finally picked her college, y’know,” he says to Frisk. “You’ll be happy to hear which one.”

“And I’m sure she’ll tell me about it when she’s good and ready,” Frisk replies. “Be like her. Have some patience, Art.”

“Are you talking about me?” Sofia says, walking into the kitchen. “See, this is why I never tell you anything.”

“You didn’t tell me anything! I just pulled your acceptance letter out of the mailbox!”

“Don’t mind them,” Frisk murmurs to you. “They’re always like this.”

Javier raises a wooden spoon of stew, and gestures for Frisk to come over.

"What do you think?" he asks. Frisk thinks for a while.

"Needs a little more adobo. Did you put garlic in this?"

"How'd you know? Did I put in too much?"

"You put garlic in everything, and no, you did not."

They kiss him on the cheek. Javier rinses off the spoon, takes another spoonful from the pot, and hands it to you.

"Here, Chara, try it," he says. "You don't have any allergies, do you?"

"Not that I know of."

You try it. It's excellent. You tell Javier so. He smiles.

"Someone should set the table," Sofia says.

You volunteer to do it. You don't particularly like standing around and feeling useless. She tells you where all the utensils are.

"Y'think Mami and Papi are going to be home in time to eat?" Arturo asks.

Frisk shrugs. "Probably not."


End file.
